Ten Christmas Things
by marisa lee -peanuts
Summary: Merry Christmas! This is a 10-part sort of novella. Ten words define this jolly holiday. All of the parts are related to one another, but each has its own theme. Enjoy :)
1. 10: Santa Claus

**A/N: It's the Christmas season! Are y'all as excited as I am? :3 I sure hope so! Of course, as I'm sure you ALL know, Christmas is the season for joy, decorations, Santa, love, and most of all, Peanuts! :) I'm looking forward to seeing the Peanuts Christmas special coming up really soon! So, in honour of this special season, I've put together a little something for you. ;) I've got TEN mini stories all ready for you to enjoy during the holidays! So get ready, here they come! ;) hohoho!**

**xoxo - ml**

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**10: Santa Claus**

Abigail was eight years old and she was starting to question the existence of Santa Claus. This greatly troubled her parents, Charlie Brown and Peppermint Patty, because this would be her first year without gifts from the jolly fat man if her belief didn't rekindle itself. So Peppermint Patty came up with an idea.

"Absolutely not," Charlie Brown protested almost immediately. "There is no way I'm doing that."

"Come on, Chuck, you look just like him!" his wife fought back. "Just try on the suit."

"No."

"Please?"

"No!"

"You know," she began slowly, a grinchy grin creeping onto her lips, "There's something I find sexy about bearded men..."

Charlie Brown'a face flushed a deep pink and he scurried to get into the suit.

~o~

"Yay! Santa brought me a Barbie Dreamhouse!"

Charlie Brown and Peppermint Patty sighed at the girliness of their little girl.

"Don't forget the totally cool boxing gloves!" Peppermint Patty tried desperately. But Abigail ignored her. Charlie Brown chuckled, throwing an arm around his pouting wife.

"I hate to admit it, but that Santa thing turned out to be a great idea."

She peeked at him out of the corner of her eye. "Chuck, you sly dog," she said with a smile.

He looked innocently at her. "What?"

she reached up and held his face him her hand. "You haven't shaved in weeks."

The man just shrugged in response. She laughed and kissed him as their daughter played on the floor.

Perhaps being Santa had its perks.


	2. 9: The Christmas Play

**9: The Christmas Play**

Opening night was chaotic. There were kids running around everywhere. The place was a total pigsty. Charlie Brown was in wrecks, slumped into a chair at the corner of the green room, praying that nobody would find him. But they did, anyways.

"Mr. Brown," a little girl screeched, "Annalysia can't find her cane!"

"Mr. Brown!" another boy hollered, "Jacob soiled his sheep costume!"

"The lights on the stage won't turn on!"

"Someone's been messing with the prop table and a lot of the props are missing!"

"Mr. Brown!" "Mr. Brown!" "Mr.—"

"SHUT UP!"

Charlie Brown opened his eyes, horrified that he had accidentally let the emotion slip, but it hadn't been him. Relief washed through him and painted his face a light pink colour. Standing before him like a knight in shining armour was Lucy Van Pelt, her hands resting on her hips and her feet spread apart as per usual. She was scary, that was certain. In fact, Charlie Brown was sure he was the only one among the crowd that Lucy _didn't_ scare to death anymore. The only thing he felt was relief.

In an instant, Lucy began to shout orders at everyone—kids and adults alike. "Girls, check under the stairs for the missing cane. Jacob, there are extra sheep costumes in the boys' dressing room, and Febreze in the hall cabinet. Try the electric box backstage, Eddie, it's probably shut off. And the props are fine, they haven't been put out yet. Now get back to preparing, _five minutes to curtain_!"

Numerous shouts of "Thank you, five!" echoed back at her and the crowd dispersed in the blink of an eye. Lucy then turned to the awestruck Charlie Brown and smirked.

"I still don't understand how you do that, Lu," he said to her breathlessly, standing up from his chair to level with her. She was almost as tall as he, and when she looked at him, she looked him dead in the eye.

"And you never will."

She reached up to give him a noogie on his head and he squirmed out of the way, snatching his clipboard from a shelf nearby. Sounds of the orchestra playing 'Silent Night' faintly reached their ears as the show began. Lucy turned to her friend with a genuine Lucy smile.

"You put on a good show, Charlie Brown," she said sincerely. "You always do."

Charlie's face contorted into a goofy, one-cheeked smile and his companion rolled her eyes.

"You're still a blockhead, though."


	3. 8: Cookies

**8: Cookies**

"No, that's not how you do it... Ugh. Here. Let me."

Peppermint Patty rolled her eyes and shoved her best friend out of the way, placing her hands on the dough. "You have to be more assertive, Marce."

Marcie watched the tough girl pound the dough to a pulp, her eyes going wide at the girl's fists ferociously beating the soft, mushy clay-like dough.

"You're a natural, sir," the bespectacled girl said jokingly, using her old nickname for her friend.

Peppermint Patty shot a warning glance in Marcie's direction, but said nothing, internally beaming at the compliment. "It just takes muscle!" she said with a grunt.

Marcie nodded. "Should I be taking notes, sir?" she asked jokingly again.

Peppermint Patty scowled. "How many times do I have to tell you not to call me that, Marcie?" she muttered, causing her friend to giggle. "Maybe someday you'll learn how to cook properly." Peppermint Patty eyed Marcie's toaster with a suspicious look.

"Just like old times, right sir?" Marcie laughed.

Her friend rolled her eyes. "Except this time, you didn't put any eggs in the wafflemaker."


	4. 7: Tradition

**A/N: This is my favourite one :) I hope you enjoy it, too.**

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**7: Tradition**

PigPen was always a very traditional person. Or at least, he liked to think so.

Of course, with Christmas being one of the most traditional holidays of the year, there never went a tradition that he didn't follow. He made sure he wrapped all the gifts in traditional red and green paper. His tree was topped with the traditional six-tiered star. His nativity scene was traditional, right down to the very last sheep.

But there was one tradition that happened to be PigPen's favourite. And this year, he was bound and determined to make it work—some way or another.

"Doesn't PigPen look ridiculous! What a stupid looking hat! He looks like he came right out of the forest!" Frieda was shrieking to anybody who would listen, fluffing her 'naturally curly hair' out like a peacock. And it didn't seem that anyone was doing that—except PigPen himself.

The young man waggled an eyebrow at the woman. "Actually, that's not very accurate," he corrected her smartly, "for this particular plant doesn't grow in just any old forest."

"And why is that?" she asked, partly in disgust, partly in legitimate curiosity.

"Because, this is a special kind of plant. It's a holiday tradition to have it around, you know."

"It _is_ sort of pretty," Frieda had to admit. "And festive, too."

"Have you heard the tradition of the mistletoe?" PigPen asked her, slyly inching his way closer to her. The girl looked at him wide eyed.

"Mistletoe?" she repeated. "_That's_ mistletoe?"

"I take it you've heard the tradition," he countered.

The wide-eyed look never left Frieda's face as she discovered how close he was to her. She didn't respond.

"I hate to break tradition," he said softly now, almost in her ear. "Don't you?"

Frieda just nodded, noticing that his familiar 'pig-pennish' scent was replaced by a musky, daringly bold one that tingled her senses. He leaned in close, pressing his lips to hers with such gentleness that she sighed and returned the gesture.

Needless to say, the next time Frieda heard about any tradition, she was the _first_ to enforce its practice.


End file.
